Hermione Granger and the Champion's Folly
by Soepkip
Summary: Acceptance into Hogwarts, one of the premier schools on pokémon training and all it encompasses, is widely regarded as taking the first step on a road to certain success. For Hermione Granger it means jealous classmates, crazy professors, an international scandal and a very high risk of personal injury –or worse- getting expelled.


**Hermione Granger and the Champion's Folly**

Acceptance into Hogwarts, one of the premier schools on pokémon training and all it encompasses, is widely regarded as taking the first step on a road to certain success. For Hermione Granger it means jealous classmates, crazy professors, an international scandal and a very high risk of personal injury –or worse- getting _expelled_.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Had the protagonist been any other this story could have started with an alarm clock going off late, resulting in the hero losing his first-choice of starter to either a nameless side-character, or worse, his nemesis. He would have ended up with a completely unsuitable partner that could, against all odds, defeat pokémon no matter their size, strength or type with his magnificent signature move. They would travel the world together and grow to be the best of friends, showing how the power of love prevails.

Or this story could have started with a fair maiden, writing in her diary of the importance of such a monumental day as this and how she would miss her friends and family and her boyfriend. She would be lounging on her fluffy pink comforter, pidgey singing from the trees surrounding her house and butterfree dancing in the gentle breeze. She would kiss her father and mother on the cheek before leaving her quaint hometown with a sunny smile and empty pokéballs and –on her very first step outside the town- would meet her destined companion: a shiny mew.

But neither of those are the protagonist of this story and so that is not how this story starts.

Hermione Granger had, on receiving her acceptance letter from Hogwarts, made a colour-coded time chart that detailed when and where she should be and what she would need at those precise moments. So at exactly five minutes to eight in the morning found her, her parents and a set of luggage on the Gourin Station at platform two. They were waiting for the bullet train, which was called the 'Hogwarts Express' by locals or so they'd been told, to arrive. Which it would at precisely a quarter past eight, according to Hermione's schedule. Then there would be a fifteen minute gap in which the students could board the train after which it would leave at eight-thirty.

When the sleek red train smoothly slid to a stop on the platform with nary a sound it was time for another colour-coded slot on Hermione's time table: saying goodbye. She hugged her mum and dad, once and then a second time which lasted a little longer, before hoisting her luggage (with more than a little help from her dad) aboard the train and going off in search for a compartment. If her eyes were a little puffy, well, there was no one there to see it.

Eventually, after passing several entire passenger cars made for pokémon battles, one small shop and a cafeteria, Hermione found a compartment she liked an sat down.

Now, if this were a short story then the train would crash soon after departure and all its inhabitants would be dead. If this was a story about revenge then the train would still crash dramatically only this time our heroine would survive and travel the world on her own (clad in dark leather with lots of fishnet and wielding a fearsome flaming sword) in search of the perpetrator to get her bloody revenge. If this was a love story the first person our protagonist would meet would make her fall madly in love with him, yet they find out that they are from rival families and that their love is star-crossed and they must first go on a quest to obtain mythical items to end the feud and convince their families that they belong together.

Since this is not any of those nothing of the above happens. What does happen is, however, not any less extraordinary.

* * *

Hermione had been sitting in her compartment for what couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes when the doors slid open. She glanced up to see a dark-skinned boy standing awkwardly in the doorway, one hand was hidden in his pocket and the other was scratching his head.

"Do you mind if I join you in here? The other compartments are a bit too crowded for my liking."

"Sure, go ahead." Hermione gestured to the empty seats around her, "I've got place to spare."

"Wicked!" The boy shot het a grind and let himself fall back on onto the seat opposite to hers. "I'm Dean, by the way, Dean Thomas."

She took his hand when he offered it and shook it solemnly. "Hi Dean, I'm Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you."

"Do you mind-" Dean gestured to his pants and then to the floor and Hermione could feel her cheeks heat up.

"What? No!" the dark-skinned boy held up his hands in front of him, colouring a bit too. "No, I'm keeping my pants on, thank you. I just wanted to know if you'd mind if I let my growlithe out, he doesn't like being inside for long periods of time."

"Sure," Hermione shot him an awkward smile which he returned with an equally uncomfortable one.

"Then do you mind if I too," she mimicked his gesture, which earned her a hearty laugh and a really, _really_ white smile (which as a dentists' daughter she couldn't help but notice).

In twin bursts of light their pokémon materialised on the floor, on Dean's side a fluffy, red-furred quadruped. On Hermione's side a bipedal blue one with a hide that looked like sandpaper. It yawned almost immediately after its feet touched the floor, showing rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth in an enormous maw.

"Holy-" whatever Dean had wanted to tack on at the end was lost when the pokémon at Hermione's feet let out another yawn. "A _gible_?"

"Um, yes. I suppose. Dean, meat Daisy. Don't worry, she's harmless, or mostly harmless. Just don't stick out your hands because she does tend to bite, it's more a reflex because she's still so young."

"A gible? You have a bloody gible?" his voice came out a bit strangled, "a gible?"

Daisy the gible moved towards her trainer, struggling a bit but managing to get on the seat next to Hermione's after some awkward little hops. She then crawled into her trainers lap, closed her eyes and let out another long, teeth-filled yawn.

"Is there something wrong with Daisy?" her voice might have come out a bit more snappish than intended but she didn't mind, choosing instead to send Dean a long, hard look.

"No, no!" he held up both hands in front of his face, "nothing's wrong with her. I was just a bit surprised, it's not every day you see a gible. That's all. I mean, Rover here's special enough, compared to what I've heard about starters at Hogwarts you know."

The growlithe at Dean's feet let out a content bark, butting his head against Dean's knee.

"I don't," Hermione said softly, "know."

"What?"

"I don't know if she's special or not, okay? I've read about her species in books and because she is a dragon type that means she is pretty rare, I got that much, but never did it say she would be a pokémon worth multiple exclamations upon sight. According to _a novice trainer's field guide_ gible are more common than dratini, deino and bagon for that matter. And I don't know what's common or not at Hogwarts because I'm the first trainer in my family. _Ever_ ," she stressed the last words, tugging at her hair in frustration. "So there is so much I don't know and that the brochure doesn't cover. I mean, have you even read the brochure?"

She ignored Dean's dumbfounded look and steamrolled on, "Oh sure, there is a lot on what brands of pokémon food are available and how the air-conditioning in training rooms can be lowered to emulate temperatures found agreeable by ice types but is there anything on just what the classes cover or what supplies we need? No, there isn't, let me tell you that. It's all so vague!"

"Right," Dean said. "Okay. Uh, I haven't read the brochure or anything but I suppose most people end up with pretty average starters. Some of the fancy kids might have something special, I know the Malfoys have this whole empoleon breeding programme so I guess they'd start off with piplup. But even then your gible would kind off blow them all out of the water."

It was silent for a while, neither of them saying anything. The only sound were Daisy's snores up till the point where Dean broke the uncomfortable silence.

"So you're the first trainer in your family?" He tried.

"Yes. My parents are dentists and both my grandparents aren't really into pokémon. We've seen them enough though! It's not like we live in some no-pokémon allowed gated community or something. My neighbours had this poochyena, it kept trying to steal the mailman's bag. But enough about me, what's your family like?"

"Well my stepdad's a breeder like my mum, they didn't go to Hogwarts though. They attended the Goldenrod Academy instead but they're still pretty stoked I got in here. My stepdad bred Rover for me from this big arcanine he has, he's a real beauty. You should see him, never seen a bigger arcanine in my life. Some of Rover's brothers and sisters went to some pretty important guys, some gym girl from Hoenn even requested one. I'm not sure if it was the leader or just one of the trainers but it was still a pretty big deal for my parents' business," Dean said proudly.

"Oh wow, that is amazing! I wish I had grown up with pokémon, there is so much I don't know yet. I spent my entire summer going through books like mad and I tried to get some training done with Daisy but she's a little difficult sometimes. Is Rover like that?" Hermione eyed the growlithe curiously, the pokémon staring back at her with equal interest. His tail was wagging softly, hitting Dean's shins with each beat.

"Not really?" Dean began, moving his arms about awkwardly as if trying to make his point clear, "I mean- I've had Rover for nigh on a decade now. I was in diapers while he was being taught to stop peeing in the house. My mom said I once even ate his kibble when she wasn't looking so Rover and I never really didn't, you know, hit off. Isn't that right, mate?"

Rover barked, jumping up on his hind legs and putting his front paws on Dean's knees. He leant forward to plant a series of very wet, very much tongue-involved kisses on his trainer's face. His furry red tail was beating frantically enough that, had he been a helicopter, he would have taken off.

"But it differs you know, I mean dragons are known to be a little standoffish. Fire types take some time to you know, _warm up to you-_ " Dean huffed a silent laugh, "-but I've had Rover for a long time. If I'd only just got him I don't think we'd be this close."

"Is that so?" Hermione leant forward, folding het body over het sleeping gible and leaning her elbows on her knees. "All my books only covered things like growth curves and expected claw length and such. There were some paragraphs about behaviour but that was more what was to be expected during certain important parts in their lives, when close to evolving for example."

If one would think that Hermione spent the remaining part of the train journey to Hogwarts grilling Dean on his life and experiences growing up around pokémon and cross-referencing his answers to what she'd read in the course texts, well, that would be true. That Dean spent his remaining time on the train playing the part of Hermione's resident expert on all things pokémon that were not discussed in the books and having his words listened to as if they were gospel, well, that was true too.

* * *

Her first glance at Hogwarts proper was so much more than the brochures had made it seem. It wasn't just a castle, no, it was a monstrous structure towering over the surrounding countryside. Lights shone at them from the structure's numerous windows and it cast impressive reflections on the lake's surface. It felt as if she was slowly entering a world of fairy tales and myths where lights danced on water and castles rose to touch the clouds. It was amazing, that was all she could get her brain to churn up, it was simply amazing.

Dean and their other boat-mate, a boy named Neville who clutched a bored hoppip to his chest, had similar slack-jawed expressions of wonder. The seadra pulling their boat along only added to the otherworldly feeling, it was almost as if they were Cinderella whose rattata turned into rapidash to pull her magical carriage to her prince's ball. It was simply _magical_.

When they entered the castle and where led into a hallway that, save for the electrical lights, could have come straight from the ages of knights and torches and damsels locked in towers. It felt medieval yet its splendour was anything but.

"Now," the professor that had opened the door for them turned around to address them once they had stopped in front of another set of massive, gilded doors. "Some of you might know me, some of you might not, but I am professor McGonagall and for the next seven years I will be teaching you the ins and outs of pokémon coordination."

A redhead to her left turned to whisper something in his friend's ear, Hermione couldn't quite hear what over the other whispers that echoed through the hallway. She didn't quite know who professor McGonagall was but it seemed others did and they had quite a vocal opinion.

"I heard she's really strict," Dean hissed softly, leaning forward so he wouldn't be overheard. "Like, _really_ strict."

"Silence!" the professor snapped and it sounded almost like the cracking of a whip. At once all sound died down. "There have been some rumours about how we go about sorting you into your houses, one more outrageous than the other, so the headmaster has asked me to assure you that you will not be forced to wrestle with a sandslash bare-handed. Nor will you be sorted based on your IQ, hair-colour or how many past champions you can name in alphabetical order. The headmaster's alakazam will perform a harmless mental scan and sort you in the house you are most suited to. Worry not, your deepest, darkest secrets will remain safe as the pokémon in question has upheld the highest moral code for decades now."

The other boy that had joined them in their boat, Neville, let out a bit of a squeak at that but Hermione could barely hear it over the whispers that started up again.

"That is wicked," Dean enthused, "did you know they did it like that?"

She shook her head. In all honestly, she thought they'd be making a personality test. She'd read about the primary characteristics of the four houses, of course she had, so she'd guessed that based on the results of that test they'd fall into four distinct categories and would be sorted accordingly. It seemed, however, she was very, very wrong.

"I will call each and one of you forward in alphabetical order," the professor continued sharply, silencing them once more with a sharp look and a clearing of her throat. "Please form a neat and orderly line and then follow me into the Great Hall."

Hermione paired up with Dean and around them the other students too formed pairs. In one long line they passed through the threshold and into the massive dining hall in front of them. Chandeliers hung from impossibly thin wires, seemingly floating beneath the cavernous ceiling. Four long tables filled the room. Each one in front of a banner that hung from the back wall. On the four banners she saw the signature pokémon of all four houses. The green serperior on a silver banner of Slytherin, the Hufflepuff ursaring framed by black, the bronze noctowl on deep blue that belonged to Ravenclaw and lastly the pyroar on a standard of gold of house Gryffindor.

Professor McGonagall began calling names after she had them stop halfway through the hall. Floating in front of them just behind a tiny little chair to the professor's left was an alakazam with the longest moustache Hermione had ever seen. The golden pokémon closed his eyes when the first student (a girl named Hannah Abbot) sat down and a few seconds they opened again.

 _Hufflepuff_

Hermione startled and at her side she saw Dean whip his head around wildly. One of the girls in front of her even jumped up. The word seemed to have come from a million voices and directions at once. It felt weird and Hermione could barely supress the shudder that threatened to crawl up her spine. The sorting went on like that, her fellow first years sitting down on the stool and the alakazam calling out the name of their house _in their minds_. The professor would then give them the pins that would mark them as members of their house after which they were sent off to their new tables.

"Granger, Hermione." Echoed through the hall.

She wasn't nervous. Of course she wasn't. She shot Dean a brave, winning smile and wrung her hands together in something that _was not_ nervousness. Her hands weren't clammy either. She was Hermione Granger, she could do this. She sat down on the chair and tried very hard to look calm and collected. She. Could. Do. This.

Until the Great Hall and all the students staring expectantly at her faded away before her own eyes. Suddenly she wasn't at Hogwarts anymore, instead she was staring at a stage. It was empty. As was the theatre around her, empty red velvet chairs were all that she could see. The rows upon rows of seats reaching up and up and up in endless lines. She couldn't see a ceiling.

 _Ravenclaw would suit you_

The overhead lights sparked to life and bathed the podium in bright, yellow light. Suddenly there were people on the stage, people in white lab coats and with nametags clipped to their lapels. They were bustling around carrying papers and scribbling notes in tiny booklets. She saw herself, tiny and eleven with her bushy hair and big front teeth, sitting at a desk in their midst, busy working on something too. There was a whole chemistry set up on one edge of her desk, the red fluid inside bubbling merrily.

She didn't want Ravenclaw. Not really. She wanted Gryffindor, wanted brave and bold and a little rough around the edges! She wanted to stop being the brainy bookworm and have people see her as something else!

The scene changed abruptly and suddenly she was looking at a battlefield. It looked like a scene straight from a documentary on the seven-year war except she could hear laughing from the people ordering their pokémon about like madmen. She saw a venusaur throw a raichu against the floor with his vines at his trainer's orders. But what drew her eye was the girl with the ponytail sitting on a camerupt's back, the pokémon breathing out torrent after torrent of white-hot flames from its jaws.

She didn't want to be Ravenclaw-Hermione. She wanted to be like the girl on the stage in front of her, fighting and laughing with friends. She wanted to be bold like that and strong like that.

 _But your mind is made and I agree with your decision. Ravenclaw suits you, never deny that, but it is clear that_ _ **Gryffindor**_ _suits you more_.

As if a spell was lifted Hermione suddenly found herself back in the middle of the Great Hall. People were applauding madly and she hear catcalls coming from the table with the red-and-gold banner. The professor graced her with a tight smile when she handed her the metal shaped like a bravely roaring pyroar and sent her off to the Gryffindor table. She walked over to her new housemates, still caught in a daze, and was swiftly seated between two older girls who clapped her on the back and offered her congratulations.

"Thank you," she responded weakly, trying to smile.

The girls merely shot each other knowing smiles over her head and helped her pin her new badge to her cardigan.

She tried to pay attention to the sorting but other than waving Neville over to come sit next to her when he too ended up in Gryffindor she didn't really notice too much of it. There was a spot of commotion over another boy named Harry Potter who sounded vaguely familiar and ended up being a Gryffindor too but apart from that she only perked up when she heard professor McGonagall call out Dean's name.

Be in Gryffindor, she couldn't help but pray, her knee bobbing up and down nervously. Please be in Gryffindor, pleasepleaseplease-

 _Gryffindor!_

A thousand voices roared in her head and Hermione started clapping, relief flooding through her body at the alakazam's decision. Dean walked over to their table proudly and sat down on Hermione's other side with a big, wide grin. She returned it with an equally brilliant smile.

"There are some things I would like to say," the headmaster's microphone-enhanced voice carried through the room easily once the sorting was done, "but they can wait after the feast. Dig in and enjoy your very first meal in this new school year!"

* * *

 **A/N: it's crossover time. For those interested in helping me work out the kinks in my story, spelling and grammar please do send me a PM. I'd like a beta to share ideas with and who can help me make this little baby great :)**

 **That said, introducing a story where I wil literally try to cross both fandoms and make them one. If any of you have questions or ideas please leave a review or send me a pm, this baby has a lot of background stuff I made up and would love to share.**


End file.
